


If you're the flame, I'm kerosene

by buckybuck (thestarsthesea)



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Fingerfucking, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, bucky thinks clint is pretty and he loves him, ok how do tag this, they both have fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8271620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsthesea/pseuds/buckybuck
Summary: It's... it's just straight-up bangin'. It's a pwp, but with a little plot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Okay, so, just a heads-up, this is my first time ever attempting any porny nonsense. So, just remember that when you're reading, okay. Thanks for understanding :') lol**
> 
> Also, there is vague disregard for how actual human biology works. I know this, okay. I did a research, I googled dicks, I read some articles or whatever. But would it really be as hot if I let there be so much downtime?? The answer is maybe, but I changed it to No.

← ★ →

It's always a much livelier victory when the whole team comes back completely intact, with barely any scratches or bruises to speak of. It's a feeling that's palpable in the air, a steady buzz of confidence, excitement, relief.

But it affects some of them differently than others. Or, one of them, anyway.

Bucky eyes Clint from across the conference room they debriefed in, a simmering burn beginning to spread low in his belly. Clint always gets so... loose and confident after a successful mission.

Honestly, he's so fucking cocky and beautiful and enticing that Bucky's not sure how everyone that sees him doesn't try to take him home.

Not like they'd get very far, because Clint is Bucky's and Bucky is Clint's and everyone knows that, but still. Every move Clint makes is like a neon sign to everyone of just how much he wants to be taken somewhere and get the adrenaline high fucked right out of him. From the set of his shoulders to the sprawl of his legs, his shimmering eyes and smirking mouth, he's obscene.

If Clint's noticed Bucky's eyes on him he doesn't give it away, he just keeps bantering with Sam, seemingly completely oblivious. But Bucky isn't buying it. Clint knows exactly what he's like post-mission, how he moves and looks, and he knows precisely what it does to Bucky. He's used it before in the past. The first time they did anything other than making out and a little heavy petting was after Clint took off for a short mission, came back a few hours later overconfident and practically _prowling_ , pulling Bucky’s attention to him like it was nothing; it was so goddamn hot Bucky lasted less than an hour before pressing Clint into the couch cushions and rutting against him until they both came in their jeans. It was messy, sudden, and kind of embarrassing, but also stupidly amazing. It ended up breaking the dam, because some frantic frottage wasn't enough and Bucky wasn't done, Clint was so turned on by that it led right to Bucky fucking him hard and deep and desperate, still right there on the couch.

Afterwards Clint had smirked, stretched languidly, his back arched, graceful and teasing, and muttered something about how he knew it was a good idea to take such a simple assignment. When Bucky asked why, Clint had just shrugged, smirk still in place, dragged his hand up Bucky's naked thigh and said, "I'm ridiculously easy after a mission goes well, Nat says I get _sensual_ ," then he snorted rather unattractively, bit of a mood killer, but continued with, "so it was gonna either get you to break and finally fuck me, or I'd sit in sexually frustrated silence until I got tired and begged to suck your dick."

And Bucky was back on in a snap, so they ended up doing that too, like ten minutes later. But still, Clint knows how it is, and every successful mission since that one has led to the same thing, it's pavlovian at this point, and Bucky doesn’t get why they're still _here_ when they could be at home. If Clint wouldn't have deviated off their usual course and stopped to chat and actually go in for the debrief, he could have his dick buried deep in Clint's throat right now, or his ass, or fuck they could have been through one and onto the other by now.

Bucky wants it, and he knows Clint does too. He _knows_ what Clint’s doing. And he's frustrated.

The debrief has been over for a good fifteen minutes now, and Clint hasn't made any move to leave, so neither has Bucky. He sits at the other end of the long conference table, unabashedly staring at Clint and paying attention to almost nothing else.

Steve drops into the seat next to him, easily slipping himself into Bucky's line of vision, his eyes bright and smile huge. "Hey Buck, wanna go down to the gym for a bit, maybe grab some burgers after? I'm still a little keyed up, you know?"

Bucky shifts his eyes to look behind Steve, just in time to catch Clint's gaze flit away from his own, he watches as Clint rolls his shoulders lazily like a stretch, sees him lick his lips before grinning slow and sharp. Bucky really should take Steve up on his offer, if Clint wants to be a tease Bucky can throw it right back in his face, but Bucky's gotten a little selfish with some things. Clint tends to be one of them, more often than not.

Bucky looks back to Steve, hitching his lips into an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Stevie," he pitches his voice just loud enough to carry across the room. "but Clint and I got a date."

Steve's smile doesn't diminish in the slightest, and Bucky is quietly thankful for that. He'd hate to make his best friend _sad_ just so he can get laid. He's an asshole, but not _that_ much. He looks over to Clint, who's got an eyebrow lifted questioningly as he stares back. "Don't worry about it, Buck. What are you guys doing?"

Bucky doesn't break gaze with Clint when he answers. "Ah, you know, something to eat, a show." Clint smirks, eyebrows twitching.

Before Steve can respond Clint butts in, with that infuriating smirk still in place, "Thought that was tomorrow night, Buck."

Bucky grins, and he can tell it's not quite right, a bit too feral, more like a knife's edge than the loving gesture it's supposed to be. "Nah, doll, you're mistaken."

Clint cocks his head to the side, leaving half of his neck tantalisingly exposed, Clint's pulse jumps under his skin, and suddenly Bucky can think of nothing but setting his teeth there. "You sure?" Bucky's still smiling but he feels a muscle tick in his jaw, he nods, staring Clint down, almost daring him to disagree. "Ah, my bad then."

He's so relieved he could almost sigh, but just continues to smile genially instead, refusing Clint the satisfaction he'd no doubt feel for doing so. "We should probably get going if you wanna eat before the show." Bucky doesn't move though, he waits for Clint to get up first, which he does, like he's doing Bucky some sort of favour. It only manages to tick Bucky's irritation up a bit further.

Steve's staring at him strangely, like he's trying to figure something out, but Bucky's not gonna wait around to see if he does, he's got a plan forming. Bucky grins as he gets up, clapping Steve roughly on the shoulder as he passes behind him. "See you tomorrow for our usual run, Stevie."

He waits by the door as Clint takes his sweet time grabbing his gear, but he can't stall the two of them forever, and as soon as he's done Bucky shoots Sam and Steve a smirk and lazy salute, then bolts.

He doesn't say anything to Clint in the elevator, doesn't utter a single word on the cab ride home, and Bucky can tell it's making Clint antsy. He keeps twitching in his seat, his eyes restlessly dart to Bucky every other minute, but Bucky doesn't budge. He keeps his hands and thoughts to himself, and the tension in the car just ratchets up, until it's so thick even the cabbie has to feel it too.

They pull up outside Clint's apartment building, and Clint practically falls out of the car in his haste to get out. Bucky pays, passing the driver cash and a rueful smile, before leisurely following Clint's hurried dash into the building. Bucky trails Clint up the stairs, still moving at a much slower pace, but by the time Clint fumbles the door open Bucky has caught up. He lets Clint close and lock the door, but as soon as he's done and turned back around, he pins Clint tightly against the wood.

Clint's already breathing heavily, and it takes almost nothing to coax a moan out of him, just a short bruising kiss. Bucky presses himself solidly along Clint's front, and Clint spreads his legs easily to let Bucky slide a thigh between them. He really is so fucking _easy_ , always needy and ready, hot and hard and _desperate_.

It does things to Bucky that he's not proud to admit to, leaves him a little helpless to what Clint wants. He doesn't like having any sort of obvious weakness, even if it's one not too easily manipulated.

Bucky holds in a ridiculous whine, leaning forward to cover Clint's mouth with his own again, shoving his tongue passed Clint's teeth as he twists his fingers in Clint's shirt. Groaning deep in his throat, Clint brings his hands up to grip Bucky's shoulders tightly.

Pulling away, Bucky moves his mouth to Clint's neck, biting at the pulse point that teased him so much earlier. He hears Clint's breath catch and Bucky breathes out heavily through his nose. "Do you have any idea how much you fucking _frustrate_ me, Clint?"

Clint shakes his head once, swallowing thickly, his adam's apple bobbing, and Bucky darts his tongue out to taste it. He twists the fingers of his metal hand into the collar of Clint shirt, distantly registering the snapping sound of stitches giving way. "Just fucking sitting there, projecting to anyone paying attention to you, just how turned on you were." Bucky runs his tongue along the stubble of Clint's jaw, following it with a rough scrape of his teeth, until he can hiss against Clint's ear. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to bend you over that fucking conference table and make you beg for my cock in front of anyone too stupid to stick around."

Clint shudders, chokes on his own tongue, his hips stuttering jerkily along Bucky's thigh. Bucky growls, dropping his left hand to grasp tightly to Clint's ass, dragging him forward into another thrust. He keeps pulling Clint down and forward, sucking an angry bruise below Clint's ear, coaxing moans deep from his chest, guides Clint's thrusts until he's shamelessly riding Bucky's thigh on his own.

"Were you thinking about this during the debrief, Clint? Thinkin' about riding my thigh against the fuckin' door because you're too goddamn desperate to get anywhere else?" Clint whines, and Bucky hasn't been guiding Clint's hips for a while, but he keeps his hand where it is, knows the painful pressure of his fingertips drives Clint crazy. Bucky hums, sees Clint lick his bitten lips, leans forward to do the same before dipping his tongue inside for another sloppy kiss.

He scrapes his nails down Clint's side, watches him twitch and groan, his hips losing their rhythm for one harsh, slow grind. "Hm, or maybe you were thinkin' about havin' my cock in your mouth, huh? Shoved deep in your throat, 'til you can't breathe?" Clint clenches both hands in the back of Bucky's shirt, hanging on as he relentlessly shifts his hips, and it's perfect, he's so fucking perfect. "Maybe we should do that, Clint. Have you choking on my cock instead of humping my leg like a desperate slut."

Bucky uses the grip he has on Clint's ass to force his stuttering thrusts to a stop, keeping him stock still against Bucky, his legs shaking and chest heaving. He can feel Clint's dick against his thigh, burning hot and hard through their jeans, feels it twitch when Bucky digs his nails into Clint's waist. "Clint."

Clint whines, hips jerking against Bucky's hold. Bucky tightens his fingers, a warning, a prompt. Clint's breathing is erratic and heavy, he takes in a shaky breath. "Please." It's a sigh, close to begging, so close, but not enough. Bucky leans into him fully, closing the distance between their bodies until they're flush together, lets Clint feel his cock, hard and straining in his pants. Bucky can't help but smirk at the door when Clint whines again, tearing his hands from Bucky's shirt to scrabble at his belt, eagerly working it and Bucky's jeans open. "Please, please, please _Bucky_." He pushes Bucky back just enough to start sliding to his knees. "Please let me."

But that's not what Bucky wants, not really. Clint's a slut, he'd be the first to tell you, gets even more horny and desperate after a good mission, so Bucky could allow Clint to suck him off, come now, let Clint do the same, and still fuck him in half an hour. But that's not what Bucky wants.

He stops Clint before he gets too far down, grips Clint's hair in his flesh and bone fingers and drags him back up. He kisses him, deep and wet, gripping Clint's jaw tightly with his left hand, doesn't bother to pull away when he murmurs, voice low, "No, Clint." He can feel Clint tremble against him and loosens his grip on Clint's hair, petting it softly, reassuring. "No, I'm gonna fuck you so hard people across the _street_ will hear it, then, when you're too sensitive and begging me to stop, I'm gonna eat you out until the only thing you remember how to say is 'please' and 'Bucky'. Do you understand me?"

Clint whimpers, still trembling and gripping Bucky's hip like he's the only thing holding Clint up, and hell maybe he is. "Yes." His voice is already shot, raspy and low, he leans forward to kiss Bucky's jaw, his neck. "Yes, please. Please, Bucky."

And really, Bucky hasn't been able to deny Clint anything in a long time. Especially not when he wants it just as much.

So Bucky pulls away, takes a big step back, leaving Clint slumped against the door. Bucky looks at him; his eyes are unfocused and blown wide, his hair is a mess, mouth bitten red, shirt collar stretched and ruined, his dick is hard and straining against his jeans, Bucky can even see a fucking wet patch from where pre-come has leaked all the way through his boxers. _Jesus_. All Bucky can think of is how much he wants to _ruin him_.

Bucky licks his lips, snaps his fingers until Clint focuses on him, looks Clint straight in the eyes and says, "I'm gonna mess you up, Clint. I'm gonna make you come until you can't anymore, 'til it hurts."

Clint shudders, jaw falling slack and letting a small sound past his lips. One of Clint's hands twitches towards his dick, like he was going to touch, but he doesn't, perfectly understanding what Bucky wants. It's so good, _Clint_ is so good, but Bucky needed Clint's clothes off an hour ago. Needs him naked and stretched across their stupid purple sheets. "Clint." Bucky tilts his head towards the stairs, indicating just where he wants Clint to be.

Clint lurches forward. "Yeah, yeah." He sounds dazed and already fucked out of his mind, but he starts an unsteady trek to the bedroom, pulling his shirt up and off as he goes.

Bucky watches Clint's back muscles shift and pull as he goes to unbutton his jeans, which is unacceptable, Bucky'd prefer to see that. "Hey." he says, voice coming out dangerously low. Clint completely freezes on the stairs, turning to look at Bucky over his shoulder, his eyes hazy and half-mast when they meet Bucky's. "Wait until I get up there for that." Clint groans like Bucky is the absolute worst, but does pull his hands away, letting them fall heavily to his sides as he starts climbing the stairs again.

Bucky walks the living room quickly, checking the door locks, the windows, making sure everything is secure. It's a habit he's sure he'll never break. Once he's certain they're safe, he heads for the stairs, taking them slowly; it doesn't hurt to make Clint wait, he deserves it, if you ask Bucky.

Bucky hesitates at the top of the stairs, stopped just outside the bedroom door, taking a minute to just watch Clint from a distance. He's laying spread eagle on the bed, legs open wide, his boots and socks gone, running light fingertips along the waistband of his pants. He does that sometimes, if he lets Bucky tell him what to do, teases himself with light touches in sweet places when he's not allowed near his dick. It's mesmerising to watch, each time Clint drags his fingers across the smooth skin of his hipbones he shivers, abs clenching, his breath going shaky on the inhale.

Bucky licks his lips, his fingers twitching against his sides, because well, Clint really is incredible to look at.

It's not like it's a secret that Clint is attractive, anyone would agree. Clint, with his pretty blue eyes, soft blonde hair, and accidental charm. Not even mentioning his shoulders or arms, toned to perfection from all the years of archery, he's desirable. But Bucky's sure not many people have ever really appreciated just how lovely Clint's body is. He's all soft graceful arcs, his limbs long and lithe, molded out of delicate dips and curves. Bucky might have a minor obsession with Clint's ass, with the elegant slope of his spine before it flows into smooth muscle. It's kind of perfect. But on another hand there's Clint's hips, silky, super sensitive skin stretched over sharp bones…

Clint's fingers ghost over the jut of his hipbone again, and Bucky's eyes zero in on it, on the perfect unblemished skin.

And he kind of can't wait to mark it up, to leave finger shaped bruises and teeth marks.

Yeah, he should get on to that.

Bucky stalks into the room, he can't help it, Clint's undeniably enticing and Bucky's drawn to him like he's gravity. He wastes no time in stripping down to nothing and crawling onto the bed to settle in between Clint's open thighs, pushing them further apart with his knees. Leaning down for a kiss, Bucky snags Clint's wrists in tight fingers, pulling Clint's hands away from his own skin to hold against the sheets.

Clint groans into Bucky's mouth, his tongue curling against Bucky's, his hips arching sharply in search of friction. Bucky sucks on Clint's lower lip, tracing it with his tongue, moves to bite at Clint's chin, along his neck, on down to his chest. He pushes Clint's wrists into the mattress, a command, maybe a bit of a warning, "Stay." he murmurs into the skin of Clint's chest. He shifts his right hand to grip Clint's jaw, tilting his face up to bite at his lips, his other hand trails down Clint's stomach to finish unfastening his pants.

Bucky pulls up and away, eyeing Clint's hands, but he doesn't move them, just as Bucky asked. Satisfied, Bucky shuffles down the bed, running the fingers of both hands lightly down Clint's abs, causing them to jump under his touch.

Clint had already unbuttoned his jeans, so Bucky makes quick work of the zipper, not bothering to give Clint a warning before pulling the pants and underwear roughly down and off his legs, leaving him blessedly naked.

Leaning down, Bucky immediately moves to suck a bruise onto Clint's hip, his fingers running gently up and down the insides of Clint's thighs. Clint groans, his hips bucking up at the contact. Bucky glances up to make sure Clint hasn't moved his hands, and Clint is kind of shit at taking orders most of the time, but never here, with Bucky he always listens perfectly; his fingers are twisted in the sheets, but they're exactly where Bucky left them.

Bucky could easily spend an hour just sucking bruises into the skin of Clint's hipbones, listening to the breathless little noises he makes when he can do nothing but writhe in the sheets and drip pre-come onto his own stomach, but Bucky's on a mission, and if he wants to complete it he can't play with Clint too much. So he reluctantly stops what he's doing, sitting up, but taking a minute to admire the perfect set teeth marks he left on Clint's left hip. The skin is pale and damp, spots of blood already coming to the surface around the indents of his teeth, it's going to bruise beautifully by morning. Most days Bucky wishes they could take some of what makes him super and give it to Clint, for the faster healing alone; but then there are times like this, when the needy possessive part of him gets too close to the surface, when he's glad he can mark Clint up and the bruises _stay_. They linger for days, pretty and dark and proof that Clint is _his_ , in the sharp line of Bucky's teeth, the smudges of his fingertips, all mottling Clint's skin like oil on a canvas.

Bucky lets his eyes flit up Clint's body, taking in his leaking cock, sweaty and heaving chest, flushed face, blown eyes, and they haven't even _started_ yet.

He leans back, his left hand trailing along Clint's abdomen until it rests next to Clint's dick where he lets his thumb barely press into the base, reaches towards the bedside table for the lube and condoms. Clint breathes out a weak little sound when Bucky snaps the lid of the lube open, his legs falling further open around Bucky's thighs. Bucky wants to smirk about how wanton Clint already is, how he's so easy for him, but he's really in no position to point any fingers; he tunes into himself just to realise he's panting, compulsively licking his bitten lips, no better than Clint.

Clint sighs Bucky's name at the first push inside, sounding like a plea and a prayer in the same breath. Bucky's finger slips in so _so_ easily, and he's a little dizzy from the smooth slide of it, from how Clint is so relaxed and ready for him.

It's hot and amazing and Bucky takes his sweet time opening Clint up for his cock. Lingering with one slow thrusting finger until Clint's whimpering on every exhale, until he's clenching the sheets with white knuckles at every long press, way past ready for another finger.

Bucky leans down to a suck a wet kiss onto the side of Clint's neck, bites at the skin just as he eases a second finger alongside the first, giving Clint barely any time to groan at the new stretch before pulling them right back out and shoving in again almost viciously. Clint arches straight off the sheets, moaning deliciously loud in the hushed room. Bucky watches him, endlessly fascinated by the beautiful way Clint moves.

Fucking his fingers deep and slow, Bucky watches as Clint's dick slaps wetly onto his stomach with every meeting push of Bucky's hand; there's a delicious pool of pre-come steadily dribbling to the trail of hair below Clint's belly button, and Bucky doesn't even think twice before licking it up with his tongue, sucking it greedily into his mouth. He lingers there, biting roughly at the skin before moving steadily up Clint's panting stomach and chest, listening to Clint's breath hitch, to the quiet pathetic sounds that slip out on every other breath. Bucky's not sure Clint's even aware of the sound, his eyes are unfocused, like he's barely aware of where he is, of anything but Bucky's fingers and mouth.

Bucky crooks his fingers, searching desperately for Clint's prostate, he can't help the groan that slips passed his lips when he finds it. Clint feels it so brilliantly though; spine arching, mouth falling slack, thighs trembling wonderfully against Bucky's ribs, and the hoarse cry that falls from his lips is mind-numbingly hot.

Still biting marks into the muscle of Clint's chest, Bucky ups his pace, jabbing into Clint relentlessly, hitting his prostate dead on with every other push. Bucky bites down brutally on Clint's nipple, pressing sharply onto his prostate as he does and that's it. Clint comes with a high breathless keen, spilling messily onto his flushed and sweaty stomach, untouched and twitching harshly.

Bucky milks him, keeping his fingers pressed firmly to Clint's prostate through the jerky aftershocks of his orgasm. Stays there until Clint's whining, whimpering Bucky's name, weakly begging him to stop. He does, but he doesn't take his fingers out. Instead he stays inside, keeping the stretch as Clint comes down. Bucky moves up, nuzzling into Clint’s neck as his breathing evens out, murmurs nonsense into his skin until Bucky feels the pulse in Clint's neck slow. Dropping a kiss to the hollow of Clint's throat Bucky makes a trail up Clint's neck, the sharp cut of his jaw, the corner of his mouth, whispering soft words in between each one.

Eventually Clint starts to squirm under Bucky's weight, working his hips in small hitching motions and pulling Bucky's fingers into himself further. He lets out a heavy sigh, pushing into Bucky's hand again, and Bucky gets the hint. He gives Clint one more lingering kiss, one that's returned quite happily, and sits up to drizzle lube onto a third finger, unceremoniously easing it in with the others; starting a new and torturously slow pace. He can feel the painful hardness of his own cock now, a sharp neediness he's having trouble ignoring since he's made Clint come.

He lets Clint get used to the new stretch, bending over and leaning up to kiss him, rough and messy. It's sloppy and fierce, more tongue than anything. Clint's still twitchy and sensitive, and Bucky's so hard it almost hurts. Bucky's the desperate one now, he's got plans, and he fully intends to fulfill them, but he needs to take the edge off, just a bit.

"Bucky." Clint's voice is raspy and ruined, it makes Bucky bite at Clint's jaw, reluctantly stop his movements with a rough shove of his fingers. "Bucky, come on. Fuck me." Clint brings a hand up to Bucky's face, fingers firm but passive on his jaw, like a request. "Please."

And fuck, Bucky can't deny him shit.

Bucky breathes out, shaky and harsh, pulls his fingers free. He kisses Clint again, slick but proper, and nudges his hip. "Turn over. Hands and knees."

Clint groans like he'd really prefer not to, but obeys, pulling himself up onto trembling arms. Bucky rolls on a condom, biting back a moan as he slicks himself up. After ignoring himself for so long the touch is almost too much.

He has to take a moment to collect himself, won't let all his patience and want go out the window. He knows Clint will be deliriously and painfully hot and tight, even with all the prep, the looseness of Clint's muscles from his orgasm.

And _God_ is he right. Clint's searing and smooth and vice tight around Bucky's cock, it punches a groan out of him he had no chance of stopping. He pushes in with one long thrust, revels in Clint's drawn out and dazed "fuck". It's delicious and hot and Bucky can't help but pull out the smallest bit just to thrust back in, so he can feel Clint give around him again.

It's an agonising few minutes while Bucky lets Clint adjust, but his patience has frayed too far right now, he can't wait forever. He slides out, easy as breathing, then thrusts back in sharply, pulling a choked sound from Clint's throat.

He does it again, three times, four, and Clint doesn't ask him to stop. Doesn't ask him to slow down. So he keeps going. He pushes in, hard and deep, keeping his pace slow but measured, thorough.

Clint's back is sweaty and flushed, shining in the low light of the room, perfect and unmarked. Bucky hates how pristine it looks, drags his nails down Clint's spine to combat it, bites at his shoulder blades. Clint cries out, clenching suddenly around Bucky, and Bucky breathes out a heavy breath. He gets his right hand around the back of Clint's neck, pushes him down into the sheets and holds him there, pounds roughly into that spot.

Clint's hard again. Bucky knows, sees the way Clint's clenching and unclenching his hands into the sheets, he wants to touch, but Bucky hasn't said he can yet. Clint's letting out these choking little grunts at every thrust, and Bucky's not gonna last much longer. He wants Clint to come, wants to feel him tighten around his cock, wants to hear him moan all broken and surprised that he came again.

Bucky's rhythm falters slightly, the next thrust coming faster than he wants. "Fuck." His voice is gravelly and loud. "Fuck, Clint. Touch yourself. Make yourself come."

Clint obeys frantically, scrambling to get a hand beneath himself and around his dick. He moans at the first touch, toes curling and back bowing as he desperately jerks himself off. It takes less than five strokes before Clint's coming, his voice cracking on Bucky's name, muscles tightening maddeningly around him.

Bucky fucks him through it, not far off from his own orgasm. It hits him hard, makes him tighten his hold on Clint's neck and hip, sure to leave those finger shaped bruises he craves so much on Clint's skin. He's shivery and warm after, but he can't dwell on it like he wants, his mind still running in circles around Clint. Around his plan.

He leans back and pulls out, he and Clint both shuddering at the sensation. Clint tugs weakly against the firm hold Bucky has on his hips, wanting to collapse onto the mattress, the wet spot be damned, but Bucky holds tight. Keeping Clint's ass up as he sits back, he pulls off the condom, then runs a gentle thumb from Clint's balls to his hole. He presses it against the slick loose muscle, getting a quiet little whimper for his trouble. He pauses a minute to savor how little pressure it takes to get Clint's body to give, how goddamn easy it would be to slip a finger right inside, to fuck him again. But no, not yet, maybe later.

Bucky licks his lips, rubs his thumb up and down once, twice, before covering it with his mouth. Clint squeaks and tries to jerk away, but Bucky moves with him, pulling his thumb away from Clint's hole to replace with his tongue. He tightens his metal fingers on Clint's thigh, tugging him back in place as he sucks a wet kiss onto Clint's clenching hole.

Clint groans, and it sounds almost pained, but he hasn't tried to pull away since the first touch of Bucky's mouth. He whines into the sheets, muffled and high, shaking in Bucky's hold, thighs quaking and spine arching. He's gorgeous and clearly over-sensitive, his cock still hard from the last time, hasn't even had time to go down.

Working his tongue past the loose ring of muscle to dip inside, Bucky moves his flesh hand from Clint's leg to press firmly against his perineum, massaging up and down over his already hypersensitive prostate from the outside. Clint moans and twitches and Bucky loses it a little, laving his tongue in and around Clint's hole until they're both a spit-slicked mess. It runs down Bucky's chin to his hand, wetting and easing the way for his moving fingers.

Bucky can fuck his tongue into Clint with no resistance, pushing in and out. He sucks at the rim, makes the filthiest slurping sound he's ever heard, it makes his dick twitch, and suddenly Clint's coming again. His body locks up, one curved line of tension, a hoarse pained groan ripping its way out of his mouth, a tiny amount of come dripping onto the already stained sheets.

Bucky dips his tongue inside for one more heady taste, one more stretch, before he pulls away. Clint collapses, and Bucky lets him this time. He watches Clint pant, boneless and fucked out, sweaty and marked all to hell.

Setting a gentle hand onto Clint's back, Bucky leans over, kissing Clint's cheek, his slack mouth. Clint barely kisses back, too drained to move. Running his hand over Clint's back, Bucky lets him calm down and catch his breath, ignores the way his own cock starts to harden again at the sight of Clint so blissed out.

Bucky turns Clint over, getting almost no help from the man himself, has to suppress a grin at the unhappy groan he gets for moving him. Clint sprawls on his back with his arms flopped haphazardly, legs still spread to make room for Bucky. His cock is flushed a painful looking red, still half hard and a little wet at the tip from the last orgasm. He's a quivering sweaty mess, stomach covered in come, skin mottled red, he's perfect.

Bucky hums, leans down to suck the head of Clint's cock into his mouth, while he slides two fingers back into his ass.

Clint whimpers and clenches around Bucky's fingers, his voice is so shot it's almost nothing, but Bucky can hear him loud and clear anyway. "Bucky, please. I can't." He sounds so small and pathetic Bucky nearly believes him. But he doesn't. He knows Clint's body like his own, Clint can handle one more.

He lets Clint's dick fall from his mouth messily, beginning a slow gentle rhythm with his fingers. "Yes you can, Clint."

Whining, Clint shakes his head feebly, his leg jerking harshly against Bucky's side when he brushes Clint's swollen prostate. "No I can't. Please, I can't Bucky."

The thing is, Clint knows what to say to get Bucky to stop, one word and Bucky will back off, take the three orgasms he already got, and call it a night. They made that rule the first time Bucky approached him with this. But Clint doesn't use it. He doesn't say it, and Bucky gives him a few minutes to decide. So, keeping his thrusts soft and languid Bucky leans over, laying his weight onto Clint, covering him from hip to shoulder to tuck his face into Clint's neck. He kisses the skin there lovingly, licking at the sweaty skin and nosing behind Clint's ear and into his hair. "Clint." His voice is low and sweet, warm in Clint's ear. "C'mon sweetheart, I know you got one more in you."

And just like that Bucky is proven right. Clint comes, dry as a bone, keening and whimpering, muscles locked up tight, back bowing, toes curled in the sheets, shaking so hard Bucky thinks he might fall apart. Bucky can even see from the corner of his eye how Clint's jaw is clenched tight against the _too much too much_ of a forced dry orgasm. It's hot as hell and exactly what Bucky wanted.

Before Clint's back even hits the mattress Bucky's pulling his fingers out, getting a tight grip on his own dick, his left arm pushing up so he's braced above Clint. Who's a stunning picture of fucked out; his skin covered in bruises and scratches, perfect matches to Bucky's teeth and fingers, every breath is still carrying a tiny whine on the exhale, and Bucky is so turned on he can barely breathe.

His grip on his own cock is tight and wonderful, and it takes embarrassingly little for him to add his own come to the sticky mess across Clint's stomach, even covering the particularly good hickey he left on Clint's left hip. He comes with a sigh and his own trembling muscles, pulling at himself until every drop is left on Clint’s skin.

After taking a minute to find his breath Bucky looks up, catching Clint's eye, sees the exhaustion there, but also the warmth. Bucky grins, a little sheepishly surely, slides up to kiss him, sweet and slow. It's completely different than anything so far tonight, the urgency is gone, leaving nothing but affection behind.

Bucky just keeps kissing him for a few minutes, short languid presses of lips, a silent little acknowledgement that he went a bit farther than normal, and absolutely knows it. He reaches up to run his left hand through Clint's sweat damp hair, light and unhurried, just the way Clint likes.

He pulls away once they're both breathing even, heartbeats settled, still petting Clint lazily. "Thanks, Clint." He ducks down, landing a kiss to the side of Clint's nose, grins as it crinkles cutely in response. "For, ya know, letting me have what I want."

Clint smirks, but he clearly doesn't have much energy for it, his eyes are half closed already. "You're kinda the worst, Buck." Bucky scowls, playful. "But I love you anyway. And I can't pretend I don't enjoy it. A lot."

Bucky snorts, stopping his petting to settle half on Clint and half on the mattress. He doesn't remove his hand from Clint's hair, though, he digs his metal fingers lightly into Clint's scalp for a massage instead. "Believe me, I know you do."

Clint laughs quietly, bringing up a hand to wrap around Bucky's neck. "Not as much as you, though. But almost." Bucky pushes into Clint's hand, encouraging him to run it up and through his hair, which Clint obliges with a soft grin and twinkling eyes.

Bucky's kind of ridiculously in love with that grin. Kind of ridiculously in love with Clint in general, actually. He leans in, running his nose along Clint's cheek in a gentle nudge, before pressing a delicate kiss to the bow of his lips. "I love you a lot, you know." His voice is softer than he meant it to be, more honest than he intended. But the way Clint grins, all gentle and pleased, and the way his eyes crinkle sweetly in the corners, makes it worth it.

Clint shrugs, his fingers tightening in Bucky's hair, clearly delighted by what Bucky said, but brushing it off with his usual awkward nonchalance. "Only cause I let you boss me around and fuck me into oblivion."

Bucky rolls his eyes, leave it to Clint to destroy a beautiful moment before it even has a chance to start. But Bucky wouldn't love him as much if he wasn't an asshole completely incapable of taking casual _I love yous_. He pushes himself up, planting his filthy right hand beside Clint's head so he can hold Clint's jaw in his left, forcing him into eye contact. "That's, like, the smallest part of it." He ducks down to bump Clint's forehead with his own. "But you're not wrong."

Smirking, Bucky peels himself from Clint's side, both of them cringing a bit when the mess of come between them pulls at their skin. He walks to the bathroom, wetting a wash rag with warm water, cleaning himself first, before heading back into the bedroom for Clint.

Clint hasn't moved a muscle, still sprawled shamelessly over the soiled sheets. Bucky rubs at the tacky come on Clint's skin roughly, then runs it gently between his thighs, tossing the towel over his shoulder when he finishes.

Bucky looks back up to Clint's face, finding him already passed out, eyes closed, but mouth open, face lax. Bucky shakes his head, can't help but chuckle, but he also can't blame Clint one bit.

Reaching up, Bucky gently removes Clint's hearing aids, turning them off and setting them on the night stand. He pushes Clint as slowly and smoothly as he can out of the wet puddle of come soaked into the sheets on Clint's side of the bed, slides him over to his instead.

Bucky clicks off the lamps, slides in beside Clint, grimacing a little when he ends up half in the wet spot himself. But he pulls the blanket over them both, tucking Clint in to a too large little spoon, and lets the quiet and comfort lull him to sleep.

←★→

**Author's Note:**

> Hello you beautiful humans :) or maybe Not Humans? I don't know where you guys come from, I'm not gonna judge.
> 
> So, a few notes about this fic:   
> 1) as I said above, this was my first time ever attempting any sort of sex, so I had almost no idea what I was doing... My only knowledge comes from all the porn I've read myself, so lol  
> 2) ok, this fic wasn't supposed to be this long! It was supposed to be straight up porn! Like, we shoulda seen dick within the first 50 words! But come to find out, I'm not good at that! My first time attempting to write porn, and we all found out I can't do strict pwps. Look at us, getting to know me together, so cute. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: lmaoooo, I don't own shit. Anything familiar to you here is someone else's property :)  
> Title credit: Body Heat by Selena Gomez - I'm not super sold on this title but naming things is hard and I'm Tired lol
> 
> Also, a _ridiculously_ loud and long shout out to accept-nothing on tumblr for being absolutely amazing and helping me out a LOT with the pacing of this fic. They're awesome at catching my weird bullshit and helping me work through it  <3
> 
> Alright I'm gonna go watch a scary movie now. Because it's spooky season, y'all! Happy early Halloween!! Stay safe from the spooks!
> 
> Thanks for reading! And I hope this first attempt wasn't the actual worst! You're all awesome :-*  
> <333


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